


Respect

by jscribbles



Category: Supernatural
Genre: Blueballs, Cas has a lovely tongue, Cas is a tease, Destiel - Freeform, M/M, Rimming, Sex in the Impala, dean/cas - Freeform
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-08-07
Updated: 2018-08-07
Packaged: 2019-06-23 05:04:25
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 715
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/15598908
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/jscribbles/pseuds/jscribbles
Summary: Castiel has had enough of Dean Winchester making fun of him. He decides to get some payback.





	Respect

**Author's Note:**

> Enjoy this silly little ficlet I wrote for some friends. We have a lot of feelings about Cas' tongue and all its angelic abilities.

Cas growled in frustration as he tried and failed twice in a row to reach the top shelf in the kitchen. He was two seconds from snapping his fingers and summoning the blasted bag, but Sam laughed and got up from his stool, easily reaching up and getting the bag of sugar for him.

Cas accepted it from Sam, looking grumpy. “Thanks.”

Dean laughed at Cas. “That’s what it’s like being the short one, Cas. Welcome to my life. Except I guess ‘cause you’re shorter than me, now you’re the ‘short one’.”

Cas stuck his tongue at out at Dean. He’d seen someone do it on TV the other day to show displeasure, so he tried it. It felt surprisingly therapeutic.

Castiel was unimpressed with being called “the short one” for the sixth time today. He was only an inch shorter than Dean, it seemed hugely unfair.

Sam barked out a laugh. "Dude, gross. Look how long his tongue is."

Dean choked on his coffee while Castiel looked offended. "What do you mean?"

"It's like, obscenely long," Sam said, holding his arms out in fake measurement. "No human has a tongue that long."

"I’m not a human," Castiel fired back, still looking offended. He stuck out his tongue again, pointing at it with his finger and turning to Dean, as if to say, _“tongue, angel, duh?”_

Dean got to his feet, stumbling a bit, running into the corner of the table as he tried to leave the room. "I... I gotta go. I gotta, uh, go change the oil in Impala."

"Do you need help?" Castiel asked, brows furrowing, though his lip twitched in the corner.

Sam looked between them suspiciously, as if wondering what the hell Cas knew about changing oil in a car.

Dean backed out of the room, nodding. “Yup, sure. I need all the help I can get.”

“What, why?“ Sam started, but Cas and Dean promptly ignored him and were out of the room within seconds.

\---

Dean’s hand slid against the window of the Impala, his breath stuttered as he tried to inhale but was wildly distracted by the tongue fucking him deliciously, slowly, swirling and lapping. God, it was so long and so – Cas’s long tongue slid up from behind his balls, and dipped down into his slippery, wanting hole. Cas’ hand curled around the head of his cock at the same time, finger brushing up under his head. 

With his tongue buried two or three inches in Dean, Cas hummed.

“Holy fuck,” Dean whispered.

The tongue slid out of him and Cas’ hand paused its languid stroking of Dean’s cock. “Not funny, Dean.”

“Your tongue is heavenly.”

“Dean!” Cas barked, “Stop!”

With eyes still closed, Dean sighed contently against the window, his breath steaming up the glass. “I’m hilarious.”

“Yes,” Castiel muttered, lowering himself down to Dean’s ass again. “Hilarious.”

While in an ideal world where they had all the time to explore the hundreds of ways Cas could make Dean come with his freaky tongue, Sam would undoubtedly be looking for them soon, wondering why Dean and Cas had been changing oil for forty-five minutes. So Cas hummed against Dean’s skin and tongue-fucked him faster until Dean was hovering on the edge of a screaming orgasm.

“God, Cas… Your tongue,” he rasped. “It fucks me so good. It’s – _ughhh_ – so long… I’m gonna…”

Against spit slick skin, Cas murmured, “You’re gonna what? Say it, Dean.”

“I’m gonna…”

And he was right there, almost there… Dean’s back arched and he tilted his head back, a euphoric cry dancing on the tip of his tongue ---

Cas released his cock and wiped his lips on his sleeve, smirking. 

“You’re gonna… never call me the ‘short one’ ever again?”

And then Cas was climbing out of the car, rolling up his sleeves and throwing his suit jacket and trench coat back on.

“What?” Dean asked in an aroused panic. “What?! Cas, come back! Are you fucking kidding me, angel? You’re just gonna leave me here like this?”

Castiel walked backwards, away from the car, shrugging.

“Castiel, you get back here, so help me God—“

“I told you once, I’ll tell you again, Dean Winchester,” Castiel replied with amusement, turning on his heel towards the exit. “You should show me some respect.”


End file.
